The Crow Is A Lonely Flier
by JinjerAle
Summary: Telling the chronicle of a Ravenclaw youth - with blood ties that run deeper than family. R/R please. *CH4 added - and CH5 being worked on.
1. Perched Was A Raven

**A/N** If I could, I would own them all. Note: If I could. Only fragments of your memory will be used to sort out what is hers and what is mine. R/R s'il vous plait?  
  
  
**an introducing stanza**

     If death is a simple thing – then it is what I crave right now.  
    If death is something we can love – then bring me its essence in a silver goblet.  
    If death can be found in life – I wish to live no more.  
    Find me death and hide me my life. 

Nadea stared wide-eyed at the script that had been scrawled in the side of her A Magical Rendition Of Medieval Witchcraft textbook. When she had volunteered to give up her penny bright textbooks for that new educational donation fund headed by the seventh year prefect Hermione Granger, she had counted on the fact that she would be given texts from an old store of magical library that was found somewhere in Asia. 

She had not counted on a suicidal writer's notes.   
  
  
Nadea closed the book and the smothered thud of its front flap made an emanation of sound that rang a quiet peal through the library. She frowned but quickly plastered on a look of extreme woe for the librarian who was mirroring her earlier frown.

"I cannot wait until I get back to Hogwarts," she growled to herself as she left the massive archival building and quickly hurried down the well-paved street, shoving the thick volume into her shoulder bag. 

Nadea was dressed in Muggle attire today and she didn't look any different from the average teenager, sporting a mane of dark locks that was clipped short at the crook of her shoulder. Her own bright hazel eyes mirrored the effect as she wore silver-rimmed glasses today, not in the mood for contact lenses. 

As she stepped lightly across the street and defying traffic, her thoughts roved back to the short piece that had been written in her book. Whoever wrote it was clearly a troubled soul and she hoped that the writer had found his peace. But it still didn't mean that she wouldn't be wondering about the lunatic who wrote in a Shakespearean likeness in all of her newfound hoard of history books.   
  
  
  
  
**a heartfelt beginning**

"Nadi!" Nadea spun while staring hard at the Platform 9 ¾ sign hanging overhead, startled as she regarded the youth who came forward now, her hand already waving in greeting. Then a smile broke the ranks on Nadea's face and she accepted the salutation with one of her own. "Hey Terra!"

Terra waved a hand in a more frantic wishy washy motion, indicating that Nadea should come forward – beckoning her to where Terra was standing.

Terra was standing with unlikely companions and Nadea's stride hesitated visibly as she neared her friend. Terra was standing with the Slytherin 5th year Cassius, a lupine figure of great deceit and trouble. He didn't resemble his older brother, Marcus Flint, in much other than the fact that he too had a hungry look in his eyes.

"If only he were bovine looking enough," Nadea murmured to herself, "Only after a wolf had dressed up in white, would sheep dwell in the same gathering as that predator." Nevertheless, she found herself walking toward Terra and later, she insisted to a troubled conscience that only loyalty to her friend made her do it.

One thing to note is not only had Slytherins gotten a nasty reputation in Nadea's book but Nadea was also a Ravenclaw. And respectively, she found herself allegianced to Gryffindor as overall the Slytherins did nothing but merely make asses out of themselves in front of her. The rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was great and only a blind man would not know of the interhouse animosity that had been steadily rising throughout the years.

Terra was talking very easily with Cassius and that alone made Nadea balky over approaching. Therefore it came as a relief when someone tapped her shoulder with a finger that demanded attention. Wheeling, Nadea met the deathly pale gaze of another familiar face – Draco Malfoy. Faced with a choice of Cassius and Draco, Nadea would have chosen Cassius any day.

To prove that point, she muttered a monosyllable apology and was already harkening on her route toward Terra when Draco's comment cut into her get away plan.

"Tell that fool girl to stay away from Cassius. Slytherin doesn't fit her. There's a reason why she was put in Hufflepuff."

During mid-stride, Nadea's face, as an invisible audience noted, turned a rampant red and she spun around again. "Those that are of Slytherin are the ones that are full of anal pride, Malfoy," she spat, her temper rising abominably quickly.

Malfoy sneered at her, not bothering to take breath, and retaliated quickly. "You yourself can watch it, Mudblood – respect your betters when you see them and learn to recognize them when you see them."

"Who you calling a Mudblood, squib?" Nadea shot back. Malfoy knew clearly enough that Nadea had been born from an old wizarding family of Anglo-Asian hybridism. Likewise, Nadea knew well enough that Malfoy knew how to wield his wand – but her point was that he could certainly polish his Transfiguration skills.

Malfoy at this point was seething coldly and only his eyes grew harder, harder than diamonds, and Nadea watched his face, rather transfixed by what she saw there. And then –

_If death is a simple thing…_

Nadea blinked once hard, stunned, and then she squinted hard at some place on Malfoy's face, straining for some reason. She paused for a minute before turning and hurrying off, her mind already drifting on the bars of a short-lived poem that was written on a secluded corner of an old textbook. While her thoughts drifted, a stunned Malfoy glared after her, insulted at receiving no dueling response to his offensive verbal attack.  
  
  
  
  
After the feast, our protagonist, Nadea, is found in the Ravenclaw common room, perched on a comfortable seat with her knees drawn up on the fragrant cushion. She watched through a gaze that was slow and lazy in the likeness of the viscosity of honey as her Ravenclaw classmates chattered in front of the fire.

"What about you, Nadi?" 

"Huh?" Nadea sat upright as her housemate, Skyff, stared up at her, clearly expecting an answer. 

"I was saying," Skyff said, with a bemused note of exasperation, "how you and Rubata could pair up as the Twins for Halloween. Considering how you two are like look-alikes anyway."

Huh? Nadea stole a glance at Rubata who was calmly staring into a hand mirror that she had brought down from her room. With this, she studied herself – rather her hair – as she meticulously stitched tiny braids into her long mass of tassels. Rubata always intimidated Nadea for Rubata was like the Medusa, beautiful but dangerously beautiful. Eyes always turned for Rubata and always will.

"Uh…" she found herself stalling.

Rubata looked up at this point. "It would work – I'll do it," she then gazed at Nadea. "Come on, Nadea – it would be fun." From somewhere in her brain, Nadea noted that Rubata was the only one who called her "Nadea" in place of the popular "Nadi".

"Great," Nadea found herself replying. "Umm… what are the Twins?" she added meekly. She didn't recall anything like that in her textbooks.

Skyff laughed out loud. "It's a poll the guys took last year over which girls are the most ideal in Ravenclaw. Of all of last year's third years, you and Rubata tied for second – some fourth year took first. So we nicknamed it the Twins. Though I recall going over this with you last year," Skyff added plaintively with a touch of woe in her expression, "And I also recall you were reading that article by Professor Binns."

"At least I got an A on it," Nadea muttered dourly amused.

Skyff sulked – and downright righteously at that. "You do not realize what gifts you have, Nadea!" she shrieked.

Nadea blanched and escaped to her dormitory, bidding a hasty good night to a tantalized Skyff.

When a calm Skyff entered the dormitory that night, her face only grew red again at the sight of Nadea studying a page in her Transfiguration textbook. Equally hasty as before, Nadea drew the curtains around her bed. "My gifts, just so you know, Skyff, are limited to some hapless gene of mine that requires me to have a fanatical drive for a perfect score of 15 out of 10 and another gift I seem to have recently acquired is to be harassed by Slytherins!"


	2. That Raven Is Still There

**A/N** If I could, I would own them all. Note: If I could. Only fragments of your memory will be used to sort out what is hers and what is mine. R/R s'il vous plait?  
  
  
**a passage into history**

"What we will be doing is a long term project and I have only introduced it to you and not only that, Dumbledore has told me that it would actually be an interesting thing for you all to work on."

Nadea gaped at Professor Binns. Was he serious? The ghost had done nothing but harp on about goblin rebellions. Then her head grazed the grained wood of her desk again – it would only be as miserable as the rest of his assignments.

"You are to trace your family lineage at least five generations back and this is to be completed by November 1st and a complete report is expected on it with details explanation and whatnot. You have been given my permission to use your History of Magic class time during this span of time until November. Though may it be known to you that if you let this time go to waste, you will be placed with the second years and you will relearn your study on the Rebellion of '68." With that, the ghost swept off rather sharply and left a classroom in silenced shambles. 

Nadea rose from her seat and collected her books, putting them into her bag. This was a surprise but whatever it was, a stroke of insanity on Binns' part or brilliance for Dumbledore – it would certainly not go to waste. 

"Where are you going?" Skyff hissed, grabbing her arm as she rose.

Nadea patiently unhooked Skyff's hand while she trod on robes and bags alike on her way out of the aisle. "The Owlery for a letter to my parents but first, the library."

"I'll come too." Rubata stood and gracefully made a path through the same aisle Nadea had come out of. She caught Nadea's eye and smiled. "This project seems interesting. I'd like to try it but I think I'll need help looking up my mother's side – I can't tell if she said her grandmother was veela or her great-grandmother was veela."

Nadea nodded and both girls stared at their lone companion still sitting.

Skyff stared before rising as well, sighing. "Well – off to it then?"

  
  
  
  
Entering the library quietly, the trio made their way to a secluded spot and sprawled their belongings over the large table and each took up a fresh scroll of parchment.

"Mmm… I know that my great-grandfather was a founder of the Salem Witch Institute over in America…."

"Cool – American blood. That's exotic. Me, on the other hand, I've got a German on one side and a Russian on the other… I think I've got a little bit of Muggle too…"

"I know my mother and father were both wizards – never found out if they came from a Muggle family." Nadea paused. "This isn't getting me anywhere," she muttered, rubbing her head with a hand that was already beginning to stain with runaway splotches of ink off her quill.

"D'ya think he expects us to write up a report on our family even if it ends cold with a strictly Muggle line?"

"Probably – load it with Muggle history. That ought to keep him satisfied."

A giggle was heard from somewhere in the library and three heads rose to seek out the disturbance.

Nadea's face turned a ghastly shade of green when she found Malfoy rather preoccupied with his girlfriend – a 6th year – somewhere in the corner. "Oh Hellsteeth," she growled, swearing by the dark wizard famous for his interpretation of the darkness of Muggle religion, Christianity. He grew to be a big thing; a historical figure of what Voldemort represented modern-day.

At Skyff's alarmed look, Nadea hastened to reassure her. "Hellsteeth has been dead for over ten centuries – don't worry about it. He won't come and kill me for using his 'name in vain.'"

Almost immediately, Skyff burrowed her head into a compilation of notes and textbooks, her vigor to study literally beads of sweat on her neck.

Nadea quirked a brow at Skyff's retreat when she felt someone's breath on the back of her neck. Unflinching, she turned slowly and choked on an oath. Damned Slytherins, she thought sourly. They really know how to screw you up.

For indeed, Malfoy was looming there, another sneer on a face that might have otherwise been handsome. His baleful glare sized her up even now and he spoke at last, "Well Mudblood – it's been a while, hasn't it?"

For a response, Nadea studied Malfoy's face for some time before placidly turning and returning to her work. To further stress her point of ignoring the bleating jerk, she spoke to Rubata, giving a question. "You think we would get extra credit if we research past the five generation mark?"

"Doing this project for Professor Binns, eh? Excellent then, Mudblood – you can do mine as well." From his bag, Malfoy dropped a stack of paper on top of Nadea's things and to enhance _his_ point, grabbed Nadea's arm in a deathlock. "And you better do it well, fool."

Nadea studied Malfoy's face once again and pondered how bad the consequences would be if she Transfigured his eyes into sardines. The screaming wouldn't be bad – not bad at all- 

_If death can be found in life…_

Nadea froze and stared at Malfoy closer. "What did you say?"

Malfoy glared at her, astounded. "No – what did _you_ say? Some crap about death and life?"

"_You_ said it," Nadea snapped, her fingers now drifting to her wand. She already had the coordinates of how exactly Malfoy's eyes lay on his face's contour and all she had to do was-

_Find me death and hide me my life…_

"You better stop it, Ravenclaw," Malfoy finally hissed at last, his pupils narrowing to a degree of suspicion and something like agitation. He withdrew his painful grab on her arm and promptly left the premises.

While nursing her pain-singing arm, Nadea scuffled out her textbook and flipped to the page with the writing on it. In place of the original were more words:

     If it is life you love, it is death you hate.  
    If you fear life, you caress death.  
    Find me my tomb and bring a coverlet of fire…  
    So that I may lie in rest forevermore.  
  
  
"It freaks me out," Nadea murmured softly so that none overheard and then she glanced up at last to stare at the concerned gazes of Rubata and Skyff. She cracked a smile. "I told you I get harassed by Slytherins," she confided to Skyff. Skyff drew back, disgusted once again – concern having been washed away.   
  
  
  
  
Later that night, Nadea sat in the common room again, furiously scribbling over a parchment that faintly resembled a family pedigree. Her head was bent over the cream colored paper and more often than not, her friends chanced a look over at what she was doing. 

"What are you doing?" Skyff asked at last – a look of tired resignation on her face after the fifth time Nadea had failed to respond to Skyff's comment. She didn't bother to look over at Nadea's work – it looked too much like a completed history project for Skyff's comfort.

"Working," came Nadea's muttered response as she scribbled faster, her quill's speed lengthening as she worked, entire body bent over the parchment. Nadea only paused to look up at Skyff with a questioning look that said, "Why?"

Rubata came over to kneel on the spot next to Nadea. "What are you doing? Don't tell me you're done already with your project." At that, Nadea shook her head in denial but her quill flew faster.

"This is Master Draco Malfoy's," Nadea said with a note of smugness. She swallowed her urge to laugh and instead she continued to work hard. "Though I'm surprised that the seventh years have to do this too."

"Yeah but so do the fifth and sixth years – it's a senior class thing."

"Hmm… maybe."

"He-ey, but why are you doing that jerk's homework? You've gone mad," Skyff groaned after chiding Nadea.

"But that really isn't his homework, is it? I don't think Malfoy had expected you to write that in place of 'Sire', you put in 'Peacock' and in place of 'Dam', you put in 'Whore'," Rubata cackled, her eyes widening in excitement.

"Of course. I'm sending it to Professor Binns first complete with a Draco Malfoy signature forge and then I'm going to give him a copy. Hahaha… that little sucker," Nadea straightened at last and with a tap of her wand, the creamy roll of paper wrapped itself into a cylinder and obediently made a copy.

"Hmm… Nadea?"

"Yeah, Rubata?"

"Can you make me a copy of that?"

"Hey, me too!" 

"Yeah – I want one as well!"

"Can I get one also?"

Nadea smiled obligingly at the ring of people that were now surrounding her. Life was good and all was well in the insanity corner of life. And then there was a sardonic chip to Nadea's trim smile that grew quickly into a toothy grin.


	3. Feathers Don't Just 'Pluck' Themselves

**A/N** If I could, I would own them all. Note: If I could. Only fragments of your memory will be used to sort out what is hers and what is mine. R/R s'il vous plait?  
  
  
The next day was a cheerful one until –  
  
"Nadea what are you doing?! It is RAINING."  
  
"Ah… I knew that…"  
  
The scene opened with Skyff's tantalizing finger outstretched at Nadea who was in the middle of slipping out of the dorm room to-  
  
"Go to the library... It's RAINING – if I need to reiterate that any more-"  
  
"Heard you the first time," Nadea muttered under her breath, keeping a wary eye on Skyff whose entire body was beginning to give off tremulous waves.  
  
Finally, Skyff spun and pounced on her bed, shrieking about the time it was.  
  
Rubata sat up from where she had been closing her eyes and trying her best to ignore the ongoing havoc. Nadea fixed a questioning eye on Rubata, obviously asking the reason for Skyff's unusual behavior.  
  
"You know – that time of month," Rubata answered shortly and Nadea could do nothing more but nod in agreement.   
  
  
  
"There is nothing – absolutely NOTHING – scarier than McGonagall's stare," Skyff burst out, pale faced, as the threesome made their way through the crowds assembled at the Great Hall.   
  
"Well it's only by bad luck that you got on her bad side today," Nadea offered as she broke the path first, scowling at underclassmen and bowling past fellow classmates. "I mean – you just happened to be there next to Jahar when he set that poor Hufflepuff girl's books on fire- why do you talk to him anyway? Besides, it's not like – move over!" she barked at a crouched figure on the ground, his lanky build making goings difficult for bystanders.   
  
The figure straightened and when the person stood, he was a clearly cut five inches flat taller than Nadea. He gave Nadea an extremist's sardonic look before wheeling around and merging into the crowds.   
  
"Freakish," Skyff muttered.  
  
"Friggin' tall," Nadea muttered in the same breath as Skyff.  
  
"That was Strife – he rarely comes out of his hole," Rubata commented.  
  
Nadea gazed at her friend curiously as she resumed walking. "He's a Ravenclaw? Never saw him around before."  
  
"There was a huge debate about him. During our first year, he was sorted in Slytherin and then something happened to him during the winter vacation – he was with his dad who's one of the more influential researchers down in Egypt. His mother's a British witch. I forgot what she does but it's not important. Anyway, he was down in one of those pyramids and something must've happened – the school never said why – and his memory was completely obliterated. He was out until last year. So when he returned to Hogwarts-"  
  
"I heard he collapsed while entering the Grand Hall," Skyff chimed in.  
  
Rubata nodded. "He did and then this next part is freakish." Rubata paused to quirk a smile in Skyff's direction. "He went straight up to the Sorting Hat and held it at arm's length and it said 'RAVENCLAW'."  
  
"That really is strife," Nadea commented as she tripped over rambunctious first years and etcetera.  
  
"Sort of the scary type, isn't he?" Skyff chirped as she easily hopped the mob of first years.   
  
"HEY – RAVENCLAW!"   
  
Nadea spun and surveyed a red-faced Malfoy waving a thick roll of parchment at her. "What the hell is this crap?!"  
  
"Why it's your homework, dearest Malfoy," Nadea responded smoothly, her face all benign and the true look of genuine benevolence. "How did the professor take it? I expect you got full marks with extra points added for handing it in exactly two months and a half before he expected it-"  
  
Malfoy's face turned a vile shade of darkness and Skyff regarded this transformation with a great deal of apprehension.  
  
"They say," she hissed quickly in Nadea's ear, "that when your opponent no longer resorts to verbal abuse, he goes physical." "Yes I do suppose it's a good idea to run now," replied Nadea rather frankly.   
  
"You weren't kidding," Rubata added dryly before watching Nadea take off, skirting a path through the milling students.  
  
"She could be a miler if she'd like," Skyff commented as they surveyed an enraged Malfoy bolting past them, yelling something about retribution.  
  
"No, more likely a sprinter – you've got to remember she's carrying around a bag and a half of textbooks," Rubata observed – equally eagle-eyed as Skyff was in watching this spectacle.  
  
"Then what about long distances – like say, a mile and some?" Skyff winced. "Ooh that gotta hurt."  
  
"It's got to hurt even more," Rubata added as they alertly regarded a scene where Nadea tripped over the same pile of first-years and crashed into Snape. Malfoy only seconds later joined the conundrum. "She ran into Snape who hurts more than cacti needles when indeed run into-"  
  
"And not to mention, Malfoy's Snape's favorite out of all members of the Hogwarts society – including staff."  
  
"Though he's a little too big to be sitting on his lap anymore, no?"  
  
"True…"   
  
  
  
The more Nadea stared at Snape's face, the further along the road to sickness she was. He was a vile man, he truly was, Nadea continued to repeat this to herself in her head.   
  
The result was not detention but the reduction of five points for Ravenclaw. Malfoy was let off lightly with a "Let's get along with other students, shall we?"   
  
Nadea glowered at the arrogant Slytherin before promptly kicking at the dragging ends of the taller youth's black robes, leaving dusty smudges from her feet. It was a childish act but the effort was satisfying in yet again a childish manner.  
  
By the time she had staggered into the common room, everyone had gone down to dinner except for a bunch of fifth years sitting ominously close in a circle and whispering insanely and –  
  
"Strife."   
  
Nadea could kick herself for saying that for not only did she attract the fifth years' attention but annoyingly enough, Strife sat there, inactive to her calling his name. By this point, our protagonist was in a bit of rage and to prove her point, her leg swung back and then forward again to catch the lanky boy's leg in a hard kick.   
  
Without a response, she stormed up to her dormitory, muttering something about pointless rudeness and left behind a stunned Strife with knocked out ankles.   
  
The tall youth bent over to rub the kicked joint with a hint of a wince and then he caught the eye of one fifth year.  
  
"Hey – did she just kick you?"  
  
  
  
**Chapter Four & Onwards teases**:  
  
Nadea sighed. "It's disgusting the way favoritism works here. You don't see Flitwick giving us any recognition unless you're the lucky student who manages to float your feather on your first try."  
  
"Well at least you got it on your second try."  
  
---  
  
"Oh hell... the first years here - their population - they're like RATS!"  
  
  
Thank you, **cyanide blue** and **narn** for your kind comments! ^___^ propz to ya!   
  



	4. Ravens And Cousin Crows

**A/N** If I could, I would own them all. Note: If I could. Only fragments of your memory will be used to sort out what is hers and what is mine. R/R s'il vous plait?  
  
  
"I cannot believe you did that!" Skyff cried at Nadea who was sheepishly rubbing her own ankles. "WHY?!"  
  
"Oww – I think I kicked too many things today…."  
  
"STOP EVADING THE QUESTION!" seethed Skyff, her face a bright shade of red. Her eyes were sparkling with that very familiar look of gossipy intrigue that Skyff often carried. A miniature Rita Skeeter, we have here, Nadea thought hurriedly, eyeing her vixen friend.  
  
She looked up at Skyff in surprise. "Because – he was annoying the crap out of me so I kicked him."  
  
"According from Jefferson, you just walked up to him and kicked him – is that true?"  
  
Skyff's housemate sighed. "Actually, I was going to apologize to him for being such a brat in the crowd and everything but he ignored me so I got annoyed. Besides, who's Jefferson? Is he one of those fifth years? How do you know a fifth year?" she barged on, dragging the edge of a new topic over the current one.  
  
"Annoyed over that?" Skyff ignored the attempt to rearrange the conversation. "You should know that Strife's already got himself a name for being one of the most stolid characters around-"  
  
"But you should also remember that Nadea just came back from a 'talk to' with Malfoy and Snape her most favorite people in the world," Rubata interrupted.  
  
The third member of the ongoing conversation sighed and fell over backward, one hand still hanging onto her right ankle (she instinctively does everything on her right). "That conversation – oh God…"  
  
"That bad?" Skyff asked sympathetically, dropping next to Nadea on the bed.  
  
Nadea sighed. "It's disgusting the way favoritism works here. You don't see Flitwick giving us any recognition unless you're the lucky student who manages to float your feather on your first try."  
  
"Well at least you got it on your second try," Rubata commented, receiving herself dirty looks from both Nadea and Skyff. Rubata equaled the scowls with a impassive stare of her own.  
  
"Well, you got it right after Nadi did," Skyff echoed in the same tone of voice Rubata had used. Rubata stuck out her tongue at Skyff and in response, Skyff threw a pillow at her housemate.  
  
"Arggh! Skyff!"  
  
Nadea sat up, watching this new entertainment as Rubata eventually won over Skyff, cursing Skyff's hair to stand on end which freaked the poor girl out. "Oh my."  
  
"It fits her, don't it?" chirped Rubata watching a shrieking Skyff.  
  
"Uh… Of course," replied Nadea, hastily changing her "no" to a more satisfying answer – for Rubata had given her a viper's glare. She also for one did not want to be a duplicate of Skyff – looking like that…   
  
  
  
Nadea dropped her books on top of the library table and glanced around warily before sitting, preparing to work on her history project. Rubata had run off to meet some Gryffindor boy and Skyff was out stalking Jahar again – or was it Jefferson? She had been able to go out of the dorm after she had threatened Rubata with the cruelty of burning Rubata's Transfiguration notes in the fireplace.   
  
Nadea had already traced her lineage to her parents and she wrote their names down onto the sheet of parchment. Nadea's head bent over the slip of paper and the scratches of quill against paper rang through the secluded area of the large library. Other students were working at a similar style as Nadea was, eyes skirting from textbook to parchment occasionally.   
  
Alexander Medici. The name was comforting to look at and Nadea paused in her writing to stare at her father's name written out. True to his last name, it corresponded with the historical Muggle influential family who had reigned long ago. Only, their division came from a certain mad uncle of Catherine de Medici – not from the blood of that haughty queen. That mad uncle had been the sponsor of the wizarding branch of the Medici family – though he was buried unceremoniously, he was given a week's mourning from his wizard-born relatives and friends.  
  
That was one thing to note – the Medici family. In fact, she could go look it up now.   
  
Nadea rose from the table and strode to the bookcases, her eyes intently scanning the weathered spines of decades-old volumes. She was wearing her glasses today again and the silvery glow from the light bouncing off the slim frame of metal was reflected faintly on the oak shelves.  
  
"Medici… Medici…" Her finger ran along the backs of books categorized as "M" before she froze and then chuckled at her idiocy. No one had written an account on the Medici family other than Muggle professors with their writings of Catherine. Slightly on the disappointed side, Nadea returned to her seat, thinking furiously. Then her gaze dropped on the surface of the table where a certain book was resting on top of. Both eyes flew open and she herself flew forward and sat hurriedly in a plop. Immediately she bent over, fingers manhandling the pages miraculously without the rip and tear of pages too often.  
  
She could kick herself for not looking here. "I had the book to myself throughout the entire time and I didn't even check my own library – how stupid…" The book was indeed her A Magical Rendition Of Medieval Witchcraft book. The Medici period wasn't quite necessarily the feudal time period but she could at least grasp something from this.  
  
It would be cliché to say that another mysterious writing was scrawled on the flap but Nadea barged past that page, eagerly bloodhounding the information she was seeking, so the audience cannot find out.  
  
"You're worse than Granger, Ravenclaw. Did you know that? A complete book nut like she was – or rather, is."  
  
"You should talk, Malfoy – your entire family has been bailed out of the Azkaban asylum for decades now. That's a rather fetching household custom, now isn't it?" Nadea retorted, more or less ignoring the arrogant voice above her.  
  
"Find me death and hide me my life…"  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," Nadea angrily lifted her head – only to receive a glare back.   
  
"I'm not even going to bother to ask," Malfoy shot back but then his head turned suddenly to the side.  
  
Throughout her recent feuds with the arrogant Slytherin, Nadea had not known him to be the type to back off quite easily – and now that he was a seventh year… he was a member of the senior group.  
  
What – who – had caught Malfoy's stern attention was a lanky figure who was about to sidle easily past the disputing two's area but Malfoy stopped the male youth, calling in recognition. "Hey, Strife."  
  
The taller youth paused and turned to regard his senior by three years. The look they shared was nothing pleasant but each regarded the other with some degree of calculation. Nadea could tell by the tension that was forming in Malfoy's stance, his ice blue eyes were no longer sardonic but slit with suspicion – though he still smiled at the younger student.  
  
From what she could see, Strife's face was that of suppressed courtesy, his face was equally as stern and unflinching. His eyes, Nadea realized, were light grey and it seemed to give off a translucent effect as Malfoy seemed to be able to pick up on it as well. "Hey Draco," was the inanimate response from the student who towered over Malfoy's dignified five nine by an inch. (A/N: 5'9? Our Malfoy could do better, I suppose but nothing in the books gives me reason to believe that he's athletic other than the fact that he can chase a golden ball on a broomstick. And Harry beats him all the time anyway.)  
  
Malfoy shuddered but his eyes did not leave Strife's. "It's been a while – you'll have to meet up with your old friends some times, you know? Instead of studying in the library like this moron over here," he gestured arrogantly in the direction of Nadea who immediately bristled. She glared – he glared back.  
  
"Morons know how to bite, Malfoy," interrupted Strife's voice and almost immediately, Malfoy's attention returned to his former housemate. The pale Slytherin studied the face of his former, scanning for any hint of malignity.   
  
"Of course they must – for to better occupy their time, no?" He responded smoothly at last, having regained his tongue. Turning, he strode off with the air of a disdainful cat. Strife and Nadea watched him go, each with looks of a similarity in degree of displeasure.  
  
If we froze time here to look over the two students observing the same object that interested them – it would be an unusual picture of sorts. The more slender of the two, the girl was seated at a wooden table which has a polish-honed surface of many diligent wiping sessions. Both pupils were showcased behind an equally slender frame of metalwork and there was a half-smile creased into the corners of a virgin mouth. There was pleasantry contained within the eyes and that same quality was projected in the prideful self-confident method of body carriage she held. Her mess of dark hair was held up in a casual tie, causing the ends to fall lightly on the nape of her neck with wisps of "mane" darting to the fringes of her profile and clinging there until brushed away.  
  
Her male counterpart was equally garbed in the same solemn pair of robes with rivets of cloth trailing at his feet, sheets of black robes completely crowding the ground around his hidden legs. He was standing with one hand lazily placed on the brink of one table corner, two fingers left suspended in air whereas the other three were precariously set on top of the wood grained façade. His eyes were narrowed, slanting to further chase the subject that he stared at and his mouth was tense, the pursing of the lips barely accentuated.   
  
What a pretty Hogwarts portrait it makes.  
  
Nadea continued to stare at the retreating Malfoy before glancing down at her work and resuming her study once again. She remembered the verse again and checked her book. The verses were the same, having gone back to the original script. If she was hallucinating, she was going to blame it on Snape. This was a puzzlement that she needed to work out. What did Malfoy know about her book? Or if it wasn't him who was triggering the comments – then it had to be some kind of spell he had activated. She didn't think of him as the entirely brilliant type but once again, morons certainly do know how to bite and techniques vary.  
  
As she worked, she kept a steady vigil over the paradoxical Strife who was still standing there after Malfoy had left, with more than a hint of glare in his eyes. At one point, she dropped her quill and merely regarded the other Ravenclaw and lost herself, staring at a questionable subject.  
  
I wonder, she pondered suddenly, what it's like to be a member of a certain house and then be re-Sorted into a different house. It certainly had its downfalls and its advantages but she didn't know where to start. Slytherin was well-known for favoring the Dark Arts and Ravenclaw was well-known for favoring those with logic.  
  
He has pretty eyes – when he's not scowling, Nadea noted to herself, staring dimly at his profile. It was such a shame that a specimen like that would go over the other side to be antisocial, as Skyff would lament. She caught herself from chuckling outright and then choked on it when she realized Strife was just as easily staring back with the look of utmost skepticism.  
  
Ah… the crap I go through.   
  
  
  
**Commenting On Myself**:  
  
Hmm - perhaps I should start making a transition back on track. >.< I tried to with this chapter but the verse idea's getting old. TIME FOR PLAN B! WOO. *coughcough* - many thankyou's for reviewing. They weren't kidding when they said the best thing was a good critical review.BR>  



	5. Not Quite Flying

**A/N** If I could, I would own them all. Note: If I could. Only fragments of your memory will be used to sort out what is hers and what is mine.

  
For a while, Strife did not speak – his dark eyes staring down at her and finally Nadea grew impatient, first uttering panicky prayers to a superior being above. "If you're going to speak, hurry up and while you're at it, do sit down. A cracked neck doesn't appeal to me in any way."  
  
Strife was silent again before- "If you weren't this rude all the time, then you wouldn't get on Malfoy's bad side." Both grey eyes were bright and positively crackling with energy. It was an intimidating factor to stare down and Nadea soon found that she was incapable of pulling such a feat as that.  
  
"But Malfoy's rude as well so it evens out, doesn't it? And besides, you don't seem to be on good terms with him either." Strife stared at her in some disbelief and rolled his eyes. Up close, Nadea realized that he wasn't as intimidating as he looked.   
  
"You're a queer person, Ravenclaw." He then recollected his icy demeanor and left the table, leaving behind thoughts of frustration and confusion.   
Nadea was awoken by the hard flapping of wings and the gentle nip of a beak. "There aren't supposed to be birds in the dormitories," she slurred, half asleep even now. The frustrated bird hooted one note and then simply took off, the owl's shadow taking up the window space as it returned to the Owlery, leaving behind a small package which was dropped next to Nadea's head.  
  
Still nevertheless, Nadea slept on, her sleep unbroken and it lasted for the entire night until the early dawn when the strings of light flicked over her head. Dimly as she began to open her eyes, she could faintly sketch out the contour of the sculpted raven with wings akimbo mounted into the wall of her dormitory.  
  
For a minute, she thought it flew off, flapping black wings and alighting off the branch its claws were anchored to and that caught her attention – forcing her to bolt upright and nearly take a trip to the floor.   
  
And for an additional five minutes or so, she wasted time staring hard at the bust. She had never given any notice to it except that it was the traditional marker of a Ravenclaw environment. She did remember another conversation on her first day at Hogwarts.  
  
"It looks like a crow."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"It's a crow – not a raven."   
  
"What's the difference?"  
  
"Aren't they the same things?"  
  
"Great – now they're going to debate that it's a rook or a magpie."  
  
"It's a blackbird."  
  
"Arggh. What the hell is it?!"  
  
"It's a raven." And with that, Nadea had walked over to the sculpture and looked up at it with clairvoyant eyes. "Ravens are not specified species and look, this bird's build is too heavy and coarser boned to be a light crow." She smiled a secret smile and continued on. "Besides – it's best to keep tradition where it lies. We're in Ravenclaw – home of the raven."  
  
And to that day, no one had ever referred to the sculpture as a crow – but as a raven. Or rather, they considered it just as a raven and thought no more of it.  
  
Nadea sighed and rubbed her temples, her head about to droop back onto the pillow until she saw the tiny package which was miraculously intact after one night's sleep. (Nadea had a nasty tendency to move frequently while sleeping.)   
  
Within a few minutes, she had the package well on its way to being uncovered.   
  
When it was finally free of the strings and ties, there sat a slender journal type of book which she curiously opened. Her eyes were immediately drawn not to the gold gilded text on the cover but the paper marker that was wedged in the middle of the book.  
  
Without hesitation, she went to open the book to that page. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the illustration in the middle. It was an admirable drawing of a blackbird and in finely penned script, _The Raven_ had been etched into the bottom of the page.   
  
"Ooh… very nice," she murmured quietly and looked up when Skyff's routinely yawn in the morning. Then she heard the scuffle of feet and slippers as Skyff herself bounced off her bed and landed on the ground. Then she was forced to listen to the customary string of obscenities that Skyff was prone to give in the morning. Always in the morning –  
  
"You'd think by now, she'd remember that she leaves her books strewn on the ground – on the left," Rubata mumbled from where she was still somewhere beneath a mess of blankets and pillows.  
  
"Yes – err that might be wise," Nadea admitted as she hastily shoved the slender journal under one of her many pillows and promptly used one hand to smooth out the surface of the selected pillow.   
Three hours later found Nadea struggling with a rather large stubborn unicorn yearling. She found it more to her liking that she be the one to drag it around rather than it drag her. Unfortunately, the latter was occurring more than half of the time.  
  
Hagrid was watching her progress. "Be careful wit' Norah, Nadea," he called out anxiously. "Norah ernly needs a gent'l touch ter make 'er go."  
  
"Define 'gentle'!" Nadea hollered from where the unicorn was now making a determined campaign to get into Hagrid's side garden.  
  
Rubata – who had already tethered her unicorn charge after giving it a walk and cooling it down – was perched on the yard fence, observing Nadea's progress.  
  
Skyff was likewise not far behind her.  
  
"Stupid little brat," she grumbled. "He tried to bite me just because I gave him a pint – not a quart."  
  
"Of what? Whiskey?" Rubata murmured – her eyes fixed on Nadea and the unicorn that cavorted around the yard.   
  
v Another hour later, Nadea was in one of the bathrooms, scrubbing her hands hard – wincing at the burns the unicorn's leadrope gave her.  
  
Another hour passed – and she was doing the same thing.   
Nadea miserably made her way up to the Ravenclaw common room and promptly – without looking – fell over the back of a wide comfy couch and dropped like a stone – and barely missed landing on a head that belonged to a person who was sitting there already.  
  
Shutting her eyes tight, too weary to apologize or do anything of the sort (not that she would – in a very Skyff like way, she'd probably brush it off), she curled into a ball and muttered, "I'm sorry I nearly landed on you – now can you spare me for once and just quietly disperse to another spot?"  
  
"With that kind of attitude, it's surprising that you've got any friends," quipped a cold voice from wherever the person she nearly landed on was.  
  
"I've heard this voice before," she muttered out loud before finally one eyelid creaked open – then both.  
  
"Ah -" her voice failed her and Nadea half keeled over and tried to straighten, after finding Strife sitting next to her with quite an amused look on his face.   
  
  
  
**Commenting On Myself**:  
  
No review necessary - no reading necessary - this is all for myself xD 


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